Five times Jack Kelly thought he loved Sarah Jacobs
by Elisabeth Harker
Summary: ...and one time he knew that he couldn't. Jack/Sarah, Jack/David


_Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies._

_1._

Sarah Jacobs was a pretty girl. It'd take an idiot to miss that. She might not have been flashy in a knock you out and make you see stars kinda way like Medda was, but then not a lot of people could pull that off, and Sarah had her own sort of charm.

So, yeah, _of course_ Jack noticed her from the very first moment of the very first time he stepped foot inside the Jacobs' family apartment. He was a 17 year old boy. It was practically expected of him, especially when she met his eyes and smiled shyly up at him before returning quickly to her needlework.

It was just… Sarah's apron was so clean and white and she smelled like soap. When Jack looked at her hair, he could only think how soft it must be, and how it seemed to catch the light. He wanted to see what it'd look like outside in the sun.

Later he'd tell himself that it was love at first sight, like something out of a story book… not a fairy-tale or dumb romance story for little girls, but the kind of story where the hero needed to have a lady to keep him steady while he rode across the wild west catching murderers and stopping crime, because with nobody to care if you lived or died there was a hell of a lot less reason to be one of the good guys instead of one of the bad guys. Jack needed – really desperately needed – to be one of the good guys.

He'd stayed late at the tenement that night, and spent an even longer time wandering the streets after, stuck firmly in a day-dream that he hadn't really wanted to leave. And no, the dream hadn't had anything to do with Sarah, but he'd wondered later if meeting her was one of the reasons that he'd felt so empty after leaving her home, like there was a hole in his spirit and it'd take the entire sky to fill it up. He didn't need a family, which was good, 'cause it wasn't like he was gonna ever get one. He already had a lot of friends, and even though he'd only known David for a day, he guessed that the kid would be sticking around as one of them, and that'd be great if he could maybe just loosen up a bit. A girl like Sarah though… it wasn't like she could be everything that Jack wanted, but prone to wishing as he was, he couldn't help wishing that she could be a part of it.

_2._

Sarah Jacobs was a kind girl. Jack had some comparison for that, but not a lot. There was always Medda, who was just great in every way possible, but more a woman than a girl, Jack supposed. His mom had been kind too from what he remembered, which wasn't a hell of a lot. Sometimes when he remembered his mom he wondered if she'd been anything like the picture he had in his head, or if that was just something he'd made up or stolen from somewhere. His ranch in Santa Fe seemed just about as real as she did, most of the time. Realer even. He had a lot more practice at imagining ranches.

But Sarah was definitely real, and she was definitely kind. That one night, when the police had been after Jack and he'd slept curled up outside of her window, he hadn't really wanted to bother anybody. He'd figured that if anybody found him maybe it'd be Davey, and they would talk about stuff like how to finish up their strike so he could hightail it out of the city, beat it, go somewhere where nobody would know him or care what he'd done or what he did.

In retrospect, he should have expected Sarah and not Dave to be the one to open the window. Her bed _was_ right there and all

In retrospect, he should've known even before the words exited his mouth that he wanted somebody to care what he did and to miss him when the mess of things he'd made in New York was over.

There was a lot of stuff that he should've known in retrospect.

The thing about Sarah, the thing that was really really great and better even than the breakfast she'd brought him, was that Jack knew that she _would_ miss him. She hadn't said as much, but she'd looked flustered and giddy when he'd asked her, the way girls looked when they wanted you. Jack had never been with a girl like Sarah, but he'd been with girls. He wasn't an expert, but he figured that he could guess what they looked like when they cared about you. The ones who didn't smacked you when you came too close, or kicked you out in the morning even after they were the ones who had begged to come in in the first place.

He'd been with other kinds of people too. The ones who didn't really like you a lot rolled their eyes when you asked them whether or not they'd miss you. Even the ones who did like you didn't want to be asked questions like that, because it'd mean admitting too much.

Sarah's hair looked golden in the sunlight, just like he'd imagined it would.

That day he didn't feel empty when he left the Jacobs' home. He felt happy and satisfied, like he'd finally done something right.

_3._

They'd won the strike.

They'd won the strike and Sarah Jacobs was an amazing girl. She was just… just _amazing_. That was the only word for her.

In fact everybody and everything was amazing, wonderful, spectacular, great, and grand. That's why Jack had come back. That's why the dirty streets of New York were suddenly something worth keeping. He wasn't even sure why he'd let old Teddy take him as far as the train station. Maybe it was because it had been his plan for such a long time. Maybe just 'cause he'd needed to see if he'd be leaving to tears or cheers or something in between.

Besides, when a big wig like Governor Roosevelt offered you a ride, it wasn't as though you could just smile and say, "No thanks, I'd rather stay right where I'm standing." Jack had to get in that carriage.

It hadn't made him happy to glance back at David and see that his best friend looked like he'd betrayed him all over again, and it hadn't made him happy to see Sarah try and fail to smile as the carriage rolled off. It _definitely_ hadn't made him happy to see that tiny little Les was actually crying just because he was going away. There hadn't been any happiness at all about the whole thing, just something akin to happiness. Relief maybe.

The happiness came later, after he returned back and all of his friends were surrounding him, all hugging and cheering like they were a real family. It was all just so great that he needed to kiss somebody, and Sarah was there, pretty as an angel and every bit as thrilled as he was.

It was a good kiss. Long and deep, with Sarah letting him take the lead because she'd never practiced this game before. It was nice, kissing somebody who hadn't been kissed a million times and didn't try to play tricks with it. _Genuine_ was the word for it. The other guys loved it, and Jack could feel Sarah smile as they parted.

And he was just so damn happy. Walking off later with one arm around Sarah and another around Dave he just hoped that life could always be like this. Maybe he could marry Sarah, and then all of them could stay together. Sometimes dreams turned to dust, but cities never did; Santa Fe would still be there for them when they were ready for it. He'd go out with Dave to work during the day, probably herding cows somewhere, if David was willing to herd cows. Maybe he'd want to do some sort of smart job, like be doctor, or even better yet a veterinarian, so that he'd get to use his brain but still stay with Jack on the ranch. Les'd work there too, and the two of them would always look after him and make sure that he was safe and had everything he needed. Then after work he'd go to his home, and his home would be big and clean and made of wood, and he'd have Sarah there to greet him.

_4._

Sarah Jacobs was a good girl. After that first kiss she was a lot more careful around him. She needed him to do everything right, so Jack tried. If he was going to be in love with her, he was going to do it right.

Her parents liked him, which was a good start, and her brother was his favorite person in the world. He couldn't really afford to buy her flowers, but he did anyway one day. They weren't roses. He supposed he could have saved up and bought her roses because she deserved the very best, and he would have done it, only the roses hadn't been as pretty as he was hoping. They were stiff and boring, and the dark crimson made him think of the velvet that sometimes lined coffins. Instead he bought a big bouquet of who-knows-whats with lots of colors and these tiny lacey looking flowers scattered throughout.

Giving them to her was nerve-wracking, even if he didn't know what he was afraid of. It wasn't as though she was the type to get angry or throw them out the window. She was the type to smile, blush, and call them perfect, which was just what she did.

Jack liked her smile. It was the same as David's, shy and trusting all at once. The only problem was that she was so quiet and well-behaved that he didn't know what to do around her. He knew that there was a part of her that could sneak into Pulitzer's basement and print papers without caring if the ink stained her pretty white hands. He also knew that she could ride a horse-cart through the worst parts of the city, demanding the chimney sweeps and shoe-shines listen to her and heed the news she was giving them. Sarah was brave and just, but as soon as the strike was over she'd gone back to being the girl who shot him adoring glances on the rooftop without quite knowing what to say to him. Jack really needed her to know what to say, because for once in his life he was certain that he didn't. He talked a lot, sure, but it wasn't quite the right thing the way the flowers were.

Those flowers… they cost everything that Jack had made that day, and a little more besides. That meant no money to stay at the lodging, a fate that he was usually too careful for. He wandered around until past midnight, planning to sleep on the statue or in an ally somewhere, because the night was warm for October and it wouldn't be a big deal.

That was until it started to rain. As it happened he was near enough to the Jacobs' family apartment at that point to see it in the distance. The light wasn't on in the window, and he figured that there would be at least some shelter on the fire-escape, so he climbed up there.

He must've looked like he was sleeping when David came out and gently shook his shoulder a little while later, but he wasn't. David looked way more awake than he should have at that time of night.

"Are you okay?" He asked in a whisper that would've been too quiet to hear if he hadn't brought his face right up close to his.

"Yeah."

David seemed to relax visibly at that. Jack wanted to tell him that he'd only slept out there 'cause the light had been out, and he'd been sure nobody would see him and worry, but David motioned for him to be quiet before pulling him inside.

The house was the silentest that Jack had ever seen it. Maybe it was the silentest place he'd ever been. At least at the lodging somebody was always talking during the night. He tried not to make any sound as he followed David to the bathroom where he lit the lamp and closed the door.

"You know you can just come in any time you want to," David whispered as he threw a towel in his direction. Jack grinned.

"Didn't wanna wake you up."

"What were you even doing out there?"

"Sleeping."

"I kind of noticed that. You could have told Sarah you needed to stay here because you bought her flowers. She might have found it romantic," David sort of rolled his eyes at the last word, as if he didn't know what to think of it, or he just thought the whole thing was silly.

"Well, it was! It was a good idea." Jack said, barely remembering to keep his voice down.

"She really liked them. But, you know, she doesn't need you to spend all your money on her."

"I wanted to. I don't do nothing I don't want to do."

David nodded. He was well acquainted with that. There was a long pause while he looked at his feet, as if there was something he wanted to say but he wasn't quite sure if he ought to.

"Sometimes she wonders why you spend all your time with me instead of her."

"I spend lots of time with her."

David shrugged, "I'm not the one complaining."

"She's complaining?"

"She isn't… well, I mean, I guess not much. Helping out with the strike was just really exciting for her, and she doesn't like being stuck at home so much while we're out selling."

Jack nodded, already thinking of what he could do to get her out of the house and make sure that she could have her share of fun.

"There are girl newsies," he said doubtfully.

"Ma and Pa wouldn't let her. They were livid about that whole thing with the Delancies."

"Maybe that's better anyways. I'll think about some other way to show her a good time. Besides, you're my selling partner. It'd be weird to do that with anyone else."

"Don't you ever sell with the other guys?"

Jack just shrugged at that. For somebody so smart, David sure could ask some dumb questions sometimes. He'd sold around the other guys, but they hadn't been the same to him as David was.

"I'll be right back," David said. "I'm going to grab you a nightshirt."

"Don't bother. Can wear this. It don't bother me none."

"Right, 'cause I want you to lie down in my bed soaking wet. I'm sure that'll be the best thing for both of us."

Jack laughed, "Good point."

"You might want to try and dry off with that towel instead of just playing with it."

A second later and David came back with a clean nightshirt for him. Jack put it on and hung his clothes up on the side of the tub, so hopefully they'd be dry in the morning, before climbing into bed next to David.

"Jack?" He said after a moment.

"Hmm?"

"Your feet are in my hair."

"Yep." He kicked the back of David's head, only lightly, 'cause the last thing he wanted to do was hurt him. David sat up, looking exactly like…well, exactly like the sort of person who didn't want _anybody's_ dirty feet to be anywhere in the vicinity of his head. Then again, he'd never spent a night at the lodging, so he didn't know that that was the way that you slept so that everybody would know that it was just 'cause there weren't any extra beds, not because you wanted to sleep like that.

Jack got up and turned around so he was facing in the opposite direction on the bed.

"Better?" He asked.

David just nodded, apparently too tired to question why Jack had wanted to sleep in such a strange way in the first place.

Jack tried to drift off without paying too much attention to David's soft breathing, and the feel of his back against his. He had wanted to sleep this way sometimes, maybe. At least he'd thought about it once in a while. Not often, but sometimes.

Thankfully David was already in the shower when Jack woke up, and Sarah was the one sitting on the edge of the bed, looking sweet in her white nightgown with her hair a bit messed up from sleep. She bit her lip and blushed, seeing that he'd opened his eyes and was staring right at her.

"I like looking at you when you sleep," she admitted. "You seemed so peaceful."

The smile that spread over Jack's face was wide and easy. He propped himself up on his elbow.

"I like waking up to your face," he said. He reached out to touch her hair, knowing that everything would be alright. He and Sarah were practically made for each other.

_5_

Sarah Jacobs was a lot like David. She was full of life and opinions, just waiting to burst out the moment she really trusted you enough to forget herself in your presence. One thing that Jack didn't get was how two people as smart as David and Sarah could be so guarded. If he was able to think about ideas like they did, and understand stuff like physics and poetry and Latin, he sure as hell wouldn't keep quiet about it.

Both of their stories unfolded before him, little by little, mostly in hearing them talk about each other. Sarah joked one day about the tantrums she used to throw over not being able to take music lessons like the other girls at school, and David reminded her of how she'd used to draw piano keys on pieces of scrap paper and pretend to play on them, singing out the tunes since her voice was the one instrument they _could_ afford.

David joked about a stickball game they'd used to play with some other boys and girls, back when they lived in the old apartment, and Sarah scowled and said warmly that she wished he'd beat Jonathan Ross over the head with his stick instead of letting him win every game.

"He was only half my size at the time," David explained with a shrug, like beating up someone of any size was something he'd ever considered doing. Sarah tried to go on to explain that that boy was 'evil' but David kept giving her looks that told her so plainly and desperately to shut her mouth that she eventually did. It was only later that Jack was able to wheedle out of her that Jonathan was one of the boys that David had gone to school with, and he'd never done anything bad to _her._

The three of them talked politics sometimes, and at the beginnings of their conversations David and Sarah would usually at least pretend to take differing views. If optimism had its very own political party, that'd be the one that Sarah followed, but David had a streak of cynicism that she lacked. To hear him talk you'd think that all political systems were doomed for corruption, with improvements only being made briefly and then slowly being worn away at by the ones in power until the ones below them were left back at the start. Jack hated to hear him talk like that, but he loved the way that Sarah could always get him to admit that he would go through the strike again a thousand times over, that it had made a difference, and that it _had_ been worth it. They both believed strongly in fighting for freedom and defending the rights of those who couldn't defend themselves, just Sarah thought that the fight would eventually end and things would settle into something happy and pleasant, and David thought the fight would by necessity have to go on forever just to maintain status quo.

A lot of people over the years, Racetrack and Spot mostly, had joked that Jack loved the sound of his own voice. Could be that he did, but he was sure that he loved the sounds of David's and Sarah's more. Sometimes he wished he could just wander into their house and order them to talk about anything they wanted while he curled up somewhere out of the way to rest and listen, instead of trying to goad the two of them out of silence and into one of their epic conversations.

He started to devise ways to get Sarah out of the house and into the world. He told David one day that he wanted to stick a newsboy's cap on over her hair, put her in a big coat, and take her to the lodge to join in the Friday night poker game.

"I read a book where a girl did that once," David said doubtfully.

"What happened to her?"

"She got shot."

Jack frowned. "How'd she end up doing a thing like that?"

"There was a war. Lots of people got shot. Look, I know nothing like that's going to happen to her, but I don't think we're going to trick anybody."

"Didn't think we would. We just gotta give them an excuse to look like they're being tricked. Don't wanna be too obvious about it and get them in trouble."

Jack was right, just like he'd known he would be. Old Kloppman pretended to be unable to find his glasses, and muttered in exaggerated befuddlement that he hadn't known that David had an older brother. Racetrack passed around some kind of spirits he'd been given by a guy at the horse races who'd bet more money than he had, all the while winking and proclaiming loudly that he wouldn't touch that kind of stuff if there were any ladies present. David didn't take any, but Sarah tried a tiny sip, and if anybody noticed the face that she made they didn't say anything. The weirdest bit was when Blink referred to Sarah as a "beardless strapling youth" which only made everybody wonder what the hell he'd been reading to come out with that particular turn of phrase, and if he was even using real words.

By the time that the adventure was over, Jack felt nothing short of jubilant. He'd definitely made the right choice in Sarah. He'd found a girl who was more than just a girl. She was also one of his pals, just like Davey was.

It was a relief in a way, because if Sarah was so much fun, such a great friend, and so engaging to talk to, maybe that'd mean he'd be able to get her brother off his mind for five minutes, and just concentrate on building his life.

,

.0

Sarah Jacobs wasn't David.

That should've been a good thing, because of course he liked everything there was to like about David and thought about him all the time, but he was a boy. He was Jack's best friend, and he wasn't some street kid who could play with fire and not give a damn. He spent time with the other newsies, was almost one of them, but he didn't do things that he shouldn't. David was smart and careful. Jack wasn't either of those things.

That's how he ended up drinking too much on New Year's Eve, getting David to follow him outside under the pretext that he needed to tell him a secret about Sarah, and kissing him against the wall at the back of Tibby's.

Probably it should've surprised him that David kissed back. In retrospect and all that. At least David looked surprised enough for the both of them, all wide-eyed and everything. He touched his lips like he maybe needed to verify that they were an actual part of his body that had just been doing what he thought they'd been doing.

"How'd you like that?" Jack asked, drunk enough to feel assured.

"Why did you do it?"

"Wanted to. 'Sides, it's a new centaury and everything's changing, so I figured it'd be okay. "

David didn't say anything right away. He stood stock still, and let out his breath in a small huff.

"Do you want me to take you back to the lodge now, or wait until midnight?" David asked finally, after glancing at his watch to make sure midnight wasn't too far away.

"What are we going to do at the lodge?"

"_We_ aren't going to _do_ anything. I'm going to put you to bed so you don't do anything else stupid, then go back home and try not to look at my sister, in case she reads my mind or something."

"Your sister?"

"Yeah. You know, the girl you're crazy about?"

"Right. Wanted to tell you something about her."

Jack slumped down into a sitting position against the wall, glad he'd drank too much to really worry over what he'd just done. David stared at him for a long time, as if trying to decide what to do, before slumping down next to him. That was a good sign at least. Whatever else happened David wasn't shouting at him or running away.

"What did you want to tell me about Sarah?" He asked. It took Jack a while to think of how to answer that question, but he finally settled on it being David's roundabout way of saying that he wanted to be kissed again, since secrets about Sarah were what had started things in the first place.

This time he managed several before they pulled apart.

"Let's go," David said, yanking him to the feet.

"I can walk," Jack pointed out, when David put an arm around him to keep him steady.

"That's what I was worried about."

David looked exhausted when he turned up at the distribution center the next day. A lot of people hadn't slept much, but considering that both he and Jack had been back in their respective beds before the clock had even struck twelve, David really should have been one of the brightest and most awake of everybody there. He bought his papers and set off with Jack as he did every morning, but it was a good while before he said anything to him.

Jack alternated between hope and panic. David was still there, after all, but he was being weird.

"You have fun last night?" Jack asked finally around three o'clock, when sales usually started to lull before the new edition came out. "Cause I'm sure it was a great party, but I can't remember any of it."

"You weren't even that far gone," David said. "I… we can pretend that you were if that's what you'd prefer. Can't say I expected you to be so cowardly, though."

"I ain't being cowardly. I just didn't mean anything by it. Look, it was a bad idea, alright? We shouldn't have been doing that."

"…alright," David said, but his voice was a lot quieter than it usually was.

"Besides, I'm with Sarah, right, like I should be."

David just nodded, and went back to calling out headlines, even though there weren't a lot of people about to hear them, and Jack tried his hardest not to regret the lie he'd just told.


End file.
